1853. A novel in two volumes from the author Henry William Herbert. The book Midnight was over Rome. The skies were dark and lowering, and ominous of tempest; for it was a sirocco, and the welkin was overcast with sheets of vapory cloud, not very dense, indeed, or solid, but still sufficient to intercept the feeble twinkling of the stars, which alone held dominion in the firmament; since the young crescent of the moon had sunk long ago beneath the veiled horizon. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing.
*snff snff* I burst into tears at the noble death, even tho I knew the author was overplaying it on purpose. But he did a really good job. *snff snff*
O Cataline, thou blackest, thou noblest, thou Roman! No man could fall so far if he had not risen so high. Even your treachery was worthy of a true Roman. I salute thee.